Epiphany
by NovaGirl
Summary: This time around, I decided to write a songfic for Captain Black. The song is Staind's Epiphany, and I wasn't sure of how to rate it. Uncommon pairings and depressing stuff lie within! R&R!


Epiphany  
  
On a particularly busy Wednesday, I said to myself  
"Self, there should be a Cappie B songfic out there." And Self replied:  
"You'll just have to write one yourself then." To which I replied:  
"Aww....."  
And because I was staying up far too late, Uncle showed up.  
"Aiyaa! You keeping Uncle up with your pop rock music!"  
"Listen Mr. Sparkle, pop and rock are two genres! Get a clue!" Then he whacked me.  
"Aiyaa! Do not call me that! Why you disrespect UNCLEEEE?"  
Sigh. For all you Simpson buffs out there, Sab Shimono, the VA for Uncle, was also Mr. Sparkle, the Japanese dishwasher soap mascot that was a blend between a fish and a lightbulb-he also looked remarkably like Homer.   
So I wrote this little ditty. Ditty. That's a good word. I like it. The song belongs to Staind. I don't own it. Or JCA.  
~*~*~*~  
Weariness can be fatal. I've watched people I've trusted and respected die on the job when they were 'too tired' or 'not paying attention'. But I can't hold it against them.  
Not the way I'm feeling now.  
I live underground, in a base. I've gone for days without seeing sunlight. No windows...It's hard to believe that I once had claustrophobia. I got over it though. I had to. Because I wasn't going to let others suffer because of my problems. But now...I'm actually considering resigning. I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of watching good men-ones I care for-lose their lives because of my orders. It's happened before. It still happens, albeit less often now. And still, no one speaks of it to me. But I can't blame them. I never have blamed people for not understanding. It happens often.  
- - - - -   
Your words to me just a whisper  
Your faces so unclear  
I try to pay attention  
Your words just disappear  
- - - - -   
I know how I must sound to you- - feeble, self-pitying. But you must realize this: I have never, EVER, depended on anyone. People count on me, not the other way around. My father was in the CIA; my mother on the SFPD. This...sense of duty I wear-it's in my blood. When I was in grade school, I was the responsible one; you know, the one who made sure people were alright, the one who helped pick up the young girl's books when she tripped and fell. It gave me quite the reputation: do-gooder, brown-noser.  
That rep changed at my high school.  
I started hanging with the wrong crowds. I tried everything there was to try.   
But it all stopped that night.  
It was an ordinary night at the club. Everyone went. But despite my warnings, Simon went for the Ecstasy that night. He overheated.  
I read the eulogy at his funeral.  
I avoided friends since then. Until Berkeley. I was taking a degree in criminology. And the greatest friendship of my life started with a cracked paving-stone. I don't even think he remembers this. If it weren't for that stone, I would not have bumped into Jackie Chan.  
Jackie....  
He's just something else.  
- - - - -  
'Cause it's always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said  
- - - - -  
Don't take that the wrong way. He's the greatest friend a man could ever ask for...  
But so often, I feel...isolated near him. He's part of a world I can never truly relate to. He has no clue how lucky he is.  
"Sir?" Kepler peers in from the doorway. Probably wondering about some godforsaken experiment of his.  
"Yes Kepler?" I try to keep my irritation out of my voice. He must have caught it though, because he edged backwards a step or two.   
- - - - - -  
So I speak to you in riddles because  
My words get in my way.  
I smoke the whole thing to my head  
And feel it wash away  
- - - - -  
"Sir...You're wanted in the battle room." There was an infinite sadness in his eyes that took me off guard. I follow him, and peer around the familiar faces.  
No Tag.  
Oh god....  
No....  
"Agent Tag was killed sir. A splinter group..." The other words don't compute-Taggart has died.  
I feel my mouth go dry; I can't cope. Tag can't be gone. He's not gone. He'll come around through the door any second, and he'll laugh at the joke they're playing. Probably with some new girlfriend. He always was a playboy.   
Desperation claws at my soul.  
I shut my eyes tightly.  
"Go." It's the only word that can cut through the fog of my mind to use right now. I need solitude. I can't look at their pitying faces.  
Not when they don't know.  
- - - - -  
'Cause i don't take anymore of this,   
I want to come apart.  
Or dig myself a little hole   
Inside your precious heart  
- - - - -  
"Sir, if there's anything I can do- -" I can't deal with them. They're looking down on me. They don't think I can handle it.  
"GODAMNIT , JUST LEAVE ME!!" Somewhere inside of me, I feel myself roar those words out. The room couldn't have been emptied fast enough.  
//That was smart Gustus. Just chase away the people who tried to help you.// I blink my eyes; they're dry.  
I can't even cry for him.  
You...you probably have no idea how far back the two of us went.  
Went. We're already in the past tense right now.  
He was one year ahead of me in all things. In high school, he was everyone's savior: he was chivalrous, charming, intelligent...women loved him.  
So did men.  
And he was one of the few who openly loved both.  
I was a younger man back in my times with Tag. I was exploring myself, and he was the one guiding me through it all. I was an only child...Tag was the closest thing I had to a brother.  
But for a short time, he was also my lover.  
I'm not ashamed of my bisexuality. No one in Section 13 knows. Jackie I think might. I never asked. But outside-when I do get outside-It's no secret. However, I usually end up with a woman. Maybe because they're more intuitive; I need someone who can read through my masks.  
Or maybe because on some level, I'm always doing what's expected of me.  
But that's another story from another time.  
When I found out Tag had been beside me all along...I felt elated. Knowing that he had been guiding me and I didn't even realize it was a sensation that was completely foreign.  
I should have thanked him.  
But it's too late for that.  
- - - - -  
'Cause its always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said  
- - - - -   
"Gustus?" Jackie's familiar voice conquers the grieving haze. "Are you okay?" I feel like screaming at him too. //NO! I'M NOT OKAY! I NEVER WILL BE OKAY!//  
Instead I stand, and turn to face him. His eyes widen with concern.  
"Agent Tag was killed on duty." I say it calmly, but the quavering in my gut and the heat behind my eyes betray.  
"Oh Gustus...." He tears up, and hugs me. My eyes widen, but I wrap my arms around him anyway.  
And then the tears fall.  
Why won't someone wake me up? The nightmare isn't funny any more.   
But it's real. The smell of Jackie's shampoo, the stinging sensation of salty tears flowing free....It's real.   
Jackie truly is the greatest friend.  
- - - - -  
I am nothing more than a little boy inside  
That cries out for attention  
Though I always try to hide  
- - - - -  
I try to control the heaving of my chest as I sob into Jackie's raven hair. I can't help it, and I know Jackie knows it. Comforting sounds echo through my mind, and I can feel myself relaxing.  
"Why are you doing this?" I hear myself ask quietly though the tainted abyss of the now.  
"Because I care about you Gus. Please don't forget it." He murmurs more to my neck than to me, but I don't care. Jackie cares. He'd be there-is being there-for me when I need him.  
Our tears subside, and it's just us now. In each other's arms.  
I don't think I've ever felt so content in my life.  
All of this time I've been looking down at him; patronizing him and his Uncle's magic-believing ways. It's only recently that I've truly taken it seriously.  
But that's changed now.  
- - - - -  
'Cause I talk to you like children,  
Though I don't know how I feel  
- - - - -  
Jackie sniffles, his face against my chest. My heart sinks; did I do something wrong? I ask as such.  
"It's...It's just that I feel so confused when I'm around you Gus...like you're off in another world I can't break into...don't hide yourself." He pleads softly, and if I weren't so saddened by the breaking of his voice, I would laugh.  
Best friends DO think alike.  
I can't let Jackie suffer like this. Not because of me. He doesn't realize how precious his happiness is. Every smile, every laugh...They all help break the isolation of this life.  
- - - - -  
But I know I'll do the right thing  
If the right thing is in view  
- - - - - -  
"Jackie?" I ask quietly, silently praying not to destroy this wonderful moment.  
"Yes Gus?"  
"Don't leave me." I lift up his chin with my thumb and forefinger, and his eyes are shining with too many expressions for me to count. Or even guess at, really.  
"I won't. I promise." He smiles gently up at me, and I smile back, albeit faintly.  
- - - - -  
Cause it's always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said...  
- - - - -  
I will be all right.  
Jackie will be with me.  
In body...and in soul.  
It's for sure this time.  
I'll never be alone.  
Not anymore.  
Or ever again. 


End file.
